


The Beginner's Guide to Time Travel: Rules and How to Break Them

by PitchBlackAndPaleBlue



Series: The Beginner's Guide to Time Travel [1]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: (so of course that means humor, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Canon ADHD, Doctor Who References, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, MCU References, Mostly humoristic and super light but I had to tag draker stuff that are mentionned, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Recreational Drug Use, fluff and angst), lots of them - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 19:16:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14879628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitchBlackAndPaleBlue/pseuds/PitchBlackAndPaleBlue
Summary: 1. It is universally, completely and unquestionably forbidden to time travel. It is severely punished.2. If you are indeed allowed to break Rule #1, it is universally, completely and unquestionably forbidden to interfere with History's course. It is severely punished.3. None of the above matters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, eventual readers. Please try to enjoy the following piece of literature-ish. Don't hesitate to point out errors, or flaws in my writing, or to ask question.  
> A comment or a kudo would distract me from my mortal, miserable condition, and that would be much appreciated.

Ashkorn spent his whole life thinking about October, 3rd 3031. Obsessing about it. He knew almost a century early what he was going to wear, or say. He spent all of his spare time - and his supposedly not-spare time, really - playing and replaying thousands and thousands of different possible versions of the day, coming up with an infallible plan to get through each one. He said he had to be ready for anything. 

He knew what to do if someone made a comment about his species. If meteorites landed on the Central Place. If a black hole swallowed the galaxy. He even, reluctantly, acknowledged that every thing might go just fine. He thought he considered every possible scenario. 

Well, clearly, he had made a mistake somewhere because while he knew he would be at the Law, Order and Peace Office, he most certainly did not think it would be in the company of three Earth people, a failed Veluden cloning experiment, and a glowing camel. And while he knew the Universal Peace Maker would pronounce his name in front of thousands of the most important and powerful people of Reality, he most certainly did not think it would be to sentence him to death.

 

But that's not the beginning of this story; and, following logic, it should start there: roughly a millennium before, in an infinitely small part of an utterly insignificant planet, on what its inhabitants would call a 'perfectly average Thursday' - a code for 'perfectly boring Thursday', but less acknowledging of one's misery. 

Cerise woke up that morning at 6.30am - nothing unusual here she just had a thing for Gulag-like sleeping hours - with the worst headache ever experienced by a living being, or so she thought. Dismissing hangover as a plausible explanation as soon as she remembered being with her brother the day before, for he would never have let her so much as glance at rotten fruit before she turned eighteen, she spent the first half hour of her day absently staring at her ceiling, failing to remember anything from the night before , wincing every time her head throbbed. 

"You look terrible."

Cerise jumped, then groaned at the pain the movement caused, startled by the sound of the deep voice she only recognized as not-Elliot's. In her room. At 7.00am.  _ What the hell?  _

The world started to frantically spin around her as soon as her head left her pillow, and she didn't notice the hands on her shoulder guiding her back to her bed, too busy trying to keep her head from falling off. 

"Whoah. What on earth did you take last night?"

She blinked at him.

"No, wait," he continued, "Elliot told me he was with you yesterday. He wouldn't have let you drink a glass of sparkling water." He chuckled. Then, "he  _ was _  with you, right?"

She blinked at him again.

He frowned. "Are you okay?"

"You talk too much," was her answer.

The tall twenty-something year-old just shrugged at her, smiling.

Adam. 

Right.

It was starting to come back to her. Slowly. Painfully so. Not last night; before. Paris. The Cité des Sciences. 

 

Fireworks.

 

Cerise got up again. Still painful, but bearable this time. She opened her eyes to a seemingly very worried Adam, handing her a glass of water, and, apparently, paracetamol. She gratefully took it, then smiled up at him.  _ I'm okay. _

He nodded.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He stared at her, unbelieving. "Seriously, Cerise?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"We're in february. The 24th. Still Nothing?" He sighed when she shook her head, " _ God,  _ Cerise it's Elliot's birthday. Like, he was born on this day?"

"I know what a birthday is." 

He rolled his eyes. "Get up."

She rolled her eyes at him, but did just that in less than a second.

 

After spending a few hours planning birthday shenanigans - nothing crazy, just a chill hangout; Adam left, and Cerise went downstairs to get something to eat. She didn't. She just walked around the house, using enegy without a particular purpose. Then she took that book she'd started the week before, intending to read a chapter or two, waiting for Elliot to wake up. She finished it. Then, seeing as the lethargic brother she had still wasn't awake at 4pm - why was she even surprised anymore? - she focused on the equation she'd started to try to solve a week before. She had had time to write five pages of maths gibberish when Elliot, who apparently materialised next to her, started talking. "You know, only you could do  _ maths  _ as a hobby."

She rolled her eyes at him, then looked back at her sheet to hide her smirk. " Yes, well, using grey matter to do anything but sleep during half the day is a goal you should try to achieve." She looked at her wrist. "Oh wait," she continued. "It's been fifteen hours."

"There's some breakfast left," she added. "Though it must be cold by now."

He nodded, they shared a smile, and he left for the kitchen, leaving Cerise to numbers and symbols he didn't even begin to understand. 

And just like that, he started his day, and she continued hers, as if it was any day at all. As if it wasn't the last they'd spent in this infinitely small part of this utterly insignificant planet they'd grown so fond of. As if their understandings of the Universe, of Time, of Space, of Life weren't going to be changed forever in a few hours. 

 

"You okay?" Elliot asked his sister as she joined him in the kitchen, already chewing on a piece of bread she took in his plate.

She frowned at him.

"Adam told me you were looking a bit off this morning." he explained. "Well, 'like she was in agony' were his words, but he does tend to be dramatic, so."

She raised an eyebrow. "When did you see Adam?"

"There is such think as phones, you know?"

Oh. Right. Well. "Yes."

"Good. Any plans for the day?"

"Did you seriously think I was going to forget your birthday?"

"Yes."

"Well, you were right," she admitted, amused. "But Adam didn't."

"Of course not."

He smirked, then laughed, soon joined by his teenage sister. It was nice, he thought. Seeing her like this. Happy. Unguardedly so. It's been a while.

 

Sometimes he misses the time when they were both just kids; with countless problems, but no knowledge whatsoever of their existence. When she'd fall asleep to the bedtime stories he'd tell her, because he saw people do that on TV. When it was just the two of them, and his father sometimes - rarely. When he wasn't too busy with work to take care of the only person that ever truly mattered to him. When she didn't feel the need to close off, to treat emotions like chemical defects to be ashamed of. When she was happy, he thinks.

Sometimes he misses the time when they were both continuously, carelessly happy.

 

"You're awake." 

Elliot, losing his train of thought, jerked his head up to meet Cerise's eyes. 

"...yes," he started, slowly, confused as to where she was going with this. "I thought you'd have noticed by now."

She rolled her eyes. "No. Well, yes, but no. You're awake. Birthday. Adam. We've got somewhere to go."

He sighed. "Do we?"

"Yes. Adam insisted that we needed to have a family outing. Because it's your birthday. It's important"

"You don't seem convinced."

"I'm not. Not gonna get you out of this, though. You, me, Adam. Family outing. I promised." Getting up, she added, “Don’t pretend like you’re not excited anyway, you haven’t seen the guy in ages.”

 

Clothes were put on, the tube was taken. 

 

They hadn't even made it to the next station when Cerise passed out. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

** _April 6th , 2006 – Zone 51, United States of America_ **

 

N°4216 jumped when the guard yelled at her, wondering what she'd done wrong this time, trying really hard to keep her tear-producing system from activating.

  
“Experiments are not allowed in here,” he said coldly, not even bothering to look at her when she got closer, already walking back towards the lab. She followed him quietly through the maze of innumerable identical corridors, then into her cabin, before he locked the door behind as he walked towards the lab, through the hallways, then into her cabin, before he locked the door behind as he left her alone in the room. The monochrome, sterile, soulless room. She sat on the white metallic bed, inhaled the sickening chemical smell of the lab, closed her eyes, and listened.

She listened to each one of her heartbeats, translated into high-pitched mechanical sounds by the machines scattered across the room. She listened to the small squeaks her bed made, which kept her from sleeping at night, sometimes. Though they probably weren’t the only reason. She listened to the deafening quietness of the laboratory.

She listened, and she sat here listening until she heard a key unlocking her door, and a huge man – probably a scientist, judging by the outfit – come in.

“Blood test.”

Blood test. Needle. No way. Not again.

“I already had two today!” she pouted.

The tall man didn’t answer. He didn’t even acknowledge her presence. She sighed – what did she expect?

  
“So I was in the garden this morning,” she started. “Then I got kicked out.”

He didn’t react. He kept walking, leading the way to wherever it was they were going to stab her arm, and draw blood out of it this time.

She ignored the shiver the thought sent down her spine and continued her telling. 

“He was kinda mean. He yelled at me.”

Still nothing.

_ God _ , she wanted to scream. She wanted to beg. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to roll on the floor, or do whatever the hell it would take for him – or anyone, for that matter – to just  _ look _  at her.

But she didn’t. She kept walking, fists clenched, eyes watering.

“I didn’t understand why.”

He kept walking. So did she.

“He just told me I wasn’t allowed there, he didn’t explain.”

 

“I mean... Nikola used to let me.”

And that was it. That was all it took for her to finally, finally, get a reaction out of him.

He lost it.

Slapping her across the face hard enough that it would undoubtedly leave a bruise on her Alice blue skin, he ignored the child's bloodshot eyes, or her trembling lip.

“Nikola is gone,” he spat. “He's gone. Now stop talking or so help me I will...” he trailed off, releasing the arm he didn’t remember grabbing.

“Nobody's gonna treat you like a princess anymore.”

He then resumed walking, leaving her to tears flowing and sobs wracking her body.

 

“You still have a blood test scheduled,” he informed her, when he realized she wasn’t following.

 

That night, when she lay on her bed, still sniffing occasionally, massaging her still sore cheek, she kept going over the earlier argument in her head, trying to figure out what happened. What she'd done to make him so angry. Why he'd hit her.

 

And what the hell did he mean,  _ gone _ ?

 

* * *

  ** _February 24th , 2018 – London, England_**

 

 

The first thing that came to Ashkorn's mind as he saw Earth for the first time was that shouldn’t be here.

He really shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t be violating every law he's ever learned; he shouldn’t be risking the Peace as well as everything he's ever fought for, everything he's ever dreamed of, just to visit some meaningless underdeveloped planet.

 

In a ridiculous attempt to enjoy his illegal trip, he tried not to think of its consequences, of what would happen if he got caught.

_ God _ , if he got caught.

He lowered his head, hastened his pace, and willed the world to ignore him.

 

It was a beautiful day. The sky above him was a light grey, full of clouds blocking the sun's harmful rays. A chilly wind blew pleasant air on him, ruffling his dark hair. The overcrowded streets stunk of urine, garbage and mildew; and it was amazing.

It was a world he's never set foot on, whose air he's never breathed before.

It was a beautiful day, so he closed his eyes, relaxed, and ignored every reason why he shouldn’t be here.

 

He followed the crowd's movement into the tube, seating in the very slow mean of transport, struggling to breathe despite the heat, grinning at every thing, already loving the planet he's only been on for twenty-four hours.

He was petting an elderly woman's small animal when he felt a sharp pain in his bare shoulder.

“Sorry,” the teenage girl said, smiling. “Cute dog.”

She turned to go, but stopped to face him, frowning.

“You.”  
He frowned back at her. “Me?”

“You’re... I don’t know, I mean. Yesterday you. God,” she muttered, falling on her knees, hands covering her head.

The tall man who immediately knelt beside her, apparently checking vitals, turned to him.

“Call 999,” he snapped.

Who the hell was 999? And why him? Of all the people on the train who might know what he was talking about, why him?

“Now!”

  
Not knowing what to do about the guy, he focused in the obviously hurt girl. Crouching down, he opened a bottle, placed it under her nose, and stood up.

  
Which might have not been the brightest idea he's ever had, he thought, as he was pinned against the metallic door.

“What the hell did you give her?”

“What? Oh, um. It's for pain. She was in pain,” he groaned. He could relate to that right now.

“Yeah I know that! But what was it?”

“Just leave it, Elliot. I'm fine.”

“I don't care! A stranger just forced you to inhal..”

“Shut up. You,” she turned back to him.

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

 

“You’re an alien,” she said.

 


	3. Chapter 3

_ **March 4th 2010 - London, England** _

 

 

Before he could start whining about what terrible a doctor he'll make if he couldn’t handle one slightly chaotic shift, Elliot, wiping a tear on his cheek, took his phone out to text his sister. He was undoubtedly going to be home late tonight.

He dragged his feet down the street on his way to Piccadilly’s Underground station, slowly getting his composure back with each step.

He was gonna go home, he told himself. He was going to go home to Cerise, and she was going to tell him about her day ; and they'll eat, and they'll laugh, and everything was going to be just fine.

 

Clearly, the universe had other plans for him ; he realized as he heard someone scream for a doctor as soon as he left the tube . He hurried towards the feminine panicked voice, quickly noticing a man on the floor, and kneeling next to him.

 

“I.. Um. I – I was here, and he just. Well, he had trouble breathing and, um, he just fell now so,” she explained. “ I put him on his side. I think that’s what you’re supposed to do when -um - You're a doctor, right ?”

“Med' student,” he answered. “But, well, next best thing, right ?”

 

After trying to get the man to respond in any way, and failing to find a reassuring pulse, Elliot rolled the man back on his back, and started CPR.

 

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten.

 

One breath. Two.

 

Nothing.

 

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten.

 

One breath. Two.

 

Still nothing.

 

Exhausted, he stopped, cursing, then turned to the woman who's been staring at them the whole time, noticing the guy's blueish purple skin and fingernails.

“Did he vomit ?”

“What ? Oh – um, yeah. Over there.” She vaguely motioned to where the man had been sick earlier.

 

Elliot was ready to go back to reanimating him when he felt his chest rising under his hand. Sighing in relief, he took in the sight of the emaciated eighteen-ish year-old lying at his knees. Long sweaty dark curls covered the beautiful, miserable guy's pale freckled face, as his blue trembling lips struggled to pull in ragged breaths.

“You did call 999, right ?”he enquired of the woman who'd called for him , cursing at himself for not asking earlier.

She nodded, and, as if on cue, paramedics getting out of an ambulance walked towards them.

When asked, he confirmed that yes, he was coming, and he didn’t even know why.

 

* * *

 

** _February 24th , 2018 – London, England_ **

 

 

Some people laughed. Some people talked. Her brother was fuming.

Not that Ashkorn will ever know that.

He was too busy trying to escape, to cancel the biggest mistake he's ever made.  _ You'll never get caught _ , he'd told himself.

_ Humans. Who'll figure it out? _

  
Well, she did.

  
Oh, how stupid he's been. Thinking he could just violate the law, that he was above it all. 

That he could just visit a Level-6 planet, using the Social Office's money, and go unpunished.

 

Four words. Four words that were going to ruin his life, and those of all Teolks that made him their hero despite him.

 

He wasn’t going to abandon it all without a fight, though. He was willing to pay. He was willing to beg.

_ God _ , he didn’t want to let go of his life yet.

He wasn’t done. He won’t ever be done.

He loved his life. He loved  _ life _ .

He couldn’t just let go. He couldn’t just... __ _ Oh, God _ .

  
“Oh my god are you... You're crying. Wow. Okay. I didn't mean to upset you but. It's true, isn’t it? I remember.”

“Are you okay?” that was the tall man talking. 

Wasn’t he angry? 

He nodded. Of course he wasn’t okay. What sort of question was that?

“How did you..” he managed

“You talked to me yesterday. I don’t know but the bottle thing.. I remembered last night. So.”

Last night. Right.

Fuck.

Of all the people on the planet he could’ve interrogated, he had to choose the one he'd give painkillers to the next day.

Of course.

  
A jolt of pain interrupted his train of thought, again. What was it with this girl hurting his shoulder?

He snapped his head at her, questioning.

“We're here,” Cerise explained. “You didn’t seriously think I was just gonna remember you being an alien and then let you go?” she scoffed, unbelieving.

Elliot just stood there, impossibly confused, angry, and worried.The only thought his brain seemed to be able to translate into words right now was a very loud and undignified “what the fuck?!” – which, at least, had the merit to get him a reaction from Cerise. 

“Just go with it,” she shrugged. At Elliot's utterly unimpressed look, she added, rolling her eyes, “I’ll explain eventually, Elliot. I swear. Just go with it for now. Please.”

She then went back to ignoring her brother, turning to Ashkorn. 

"Come on," she started cheerfully, "you'll meet my other adoptive dad."

 

 

* * *

 

  
_ **March 4th , 2010 – London, England** _

 

 

“So who the hell are you?”

Elliot, snapping out of his absent staring out the window, turned towards the voice, meeting hard, scrutinizing bagged hazel eyes.

He shifted uncomfortably, flustered by the intensity of the gaze. “I’m sorry?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“I asked,” he repeated, “who the hell are you?”

“Oh. Right. No one. Elliot Belrose. I found you. And, um – reanimated you.”

“You’re French?”

Elliot smiled. “My accent's that bad?”

“No offense, dude, but, yeah,” he answered, smirking.

“Lots taken.”

“What do you want?”

Elliot quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I mean, you found me, you got me here. You can go now,” he shrugged.

“That’s… Complicated?”

“I don’t know how it possibly could be.”

When he thought about it, Elliot didn’t either. There had to be a reason. There  _was_ a reason. Several ones. Concern. 

“Curiosity,” he settled on.

 

Yet that didn't feel quite right. And judging from the look on the nameless face in front of him, his partial lie wasn't belived. 

But if the guy in front of him didn't see how the reason of his stay could possibly go unidentified  _by himself,_ Elliot didn't see how he possibly could tell that he just fascinated him. That there  _something_ about him – something he couldn't quite place – that got his attention. Without sounding like a lunatic, that is.

“Okay, What are you curious about?”

 

“I don't know, you? Your name. If it's heroin. It's my theory, anyway, so. Probably personnal. You don't have to answer.”

 

“Cantrell,” the guy flatly answered, , apparently oblivious to Eliott's awkward ramblings. “The name. Cantrell.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

** _February 24th , 2018 – London, England_ **

 

To anyone who met him, Elliot Sébastien Belrose being late just meant the world wasn't ending - which many would consider a reassuring thought. 

To anyone who knew him, though, Elliot Sébastien Belrose letting fifty-seven calls go unanswered meant he was either dead or about to be - which Adam did  _ not  _ consider a reassuring thought. 

 

A slightly more rational approach would've been to consider the existence of scenarios that did not involve life-endangering situations - namely, Elliot's phone was dead, or just out of his reach, but the mere thought of his best friend being in trouble and him not being able to do anything about it made getting perspective difficult. Not that he usually excelled at it anyway. 

This time was different, though. This time, he realized as he caught sight of not two but three human-shaped forms walking towards him, he - or more accurately his paranoia - will be proved right. 

 

Still confused when they arrived, he let himself be hugged by his best friend as Cerise waved at him from behind, both of them ignoring the stranger at their side staring at the ground as if willing it to swallow him. 

 

"Happy birthday?" he still said, as cheerfully as he could muster.

"Are you asking me?" Elliot laughed. 

 

Rolling his eyes as he turned to Cerise, more worry added to his complicated mix of emotions, which had been mostly composed of utter confusion so far. 

 

"Cherry!' he greeted her, ruffling her hair. "Feeling better?"

"That's still not my name, you know?"

 

Ignoring her biting tone, he shrugged. "I translated it, same difference. Besides, it's not like it's the best idea our guy's ever had," he joked, relaxing as Elliot swatted his arm.

"I was ten!"

 

"Happy birthday," Adam repeated when he stopped laughing, smiling softly at his friend. "Right!" he continued, clapping his hands together. Everyone's happy, I'm assuming Cherry feels better..."

At her nod, he asked, "is anyone gonna mention the elephant in the room?"

 

"Oh, right," Cerise remembered. "Adam, this is - Um..."

"Ashkorncsmi," he unhelpfully provided. 

"Right, Ashkorn - something. He's an alien."

 

After approximately ten minutes of Cerise explaining that  _ no,  _ it wasn't a misunderstood joke and that  _ yes _ , he was a  _ real _  alien; punctuated by stolen glances to Elliot who seemed as lost as he was, Adam finally decided to listen to his friend mouthing, "just roll with it."

 

 

* * *

 

** _May 1st , 2006 – Zone 51, United States of America_ **

 

 

Frustrated at her inability to work out anything but a jumble of meaningless symbols on the page she's been staring at for what she thought were hours, n°4216 threw the book on her room's wall, careful to make as much sound as she could. (No one was going to be listening, anyway. Or caring, if they were.)

With another, quieter thud, the book landed on the floor, cover visible. 

 

_"A Kis Herceg  -  Antoine de Saint-Exupéry."_

 

It wasn't the story she was reading it - or rather trying to - for. She'd already heard and cried over and laughed about and related to the little alien's story for more times than she could count. There was at least three chapter she was sure she could recite by heart. Five, if given motivation. 

 

No, she wanted to read it because she missed it. Because Nikola used to read it to her every night, and now it's been weeks since she hasn't heard The Prince's wisdom. Since she hasn't heard  _ Nikola _  utter said wisdom. 

So she wanted to read it because she missed  _ him. _

 

The first day he didn't show up in her room talking excitedly and insanely fast about whatever the experiment of the day was before reading her a bunch of stories he swore he wouldn't comment, but still always does; n°4216 wasn't worried. She knew he'd come back. He  _ always  _ came back. 

 

For weeks, she ignored the issue, waiting patiently - ish - for Nikola to appear and act as if he's never been gone, never once considerting that he might not. 

For months, she'd have kept dismissing it as inconsequential had Don not brouht it up.

 

He did, though, and, for the first in her decade-long life, she actually doubted his return. 

 

_ "Nikola's gone",  _ he'd said. 

 

And the way his voice faltered around the words, the sheer naked pain in his eyes hurt way more than his bruise-inducing slap.

And the words,  _ God,  _ the  _ words  _ he'd said hurt way more than his grip of steel.

 

_ "He's gone." _

 

 

And if n°4216 noticed the lab's alarm going off and the panicked cries it caused resonating all around her, she didn't show any sign of it having an impact on her.

 

How could she care, anyway?

 

 

_ Nikola was gone. _

 


	5. Chapter 5

**_February 24th , 2018 – London, England_ **

 

If asked a few hours ago his reaction in the event of an alien abduction involving him in any way, Adam C. Cantrell would've undoubtedly expressed his excitement in the prospect of inter-species communication.  
  
Call it hypocrisy, but he wasn't so amenable now.

 

 

"Okay, so. Not to alarm anyone but I went upstairs and, uhh.. Is the house flying?" Adam had asked seemingly lost. Well, more lost than usual.

 

 

 

"The house got teleported outside of Earth's atmosphere my Mr. Alien, here, apparently deciding that  _abducting us_  was the best way for him not to get in trouble. We were just discussing that."

"Right. Yeah. Because that totally makes sense. Ash-guy you might.. Um? want to explain that?"

  
It wasn't an abduction, per se, Ashkorncsmi felt the need to point out . More like a necessary displacement of non aware nor consenting beings. 

"Okay then, what is this ?"

  
"I teleported us to your residence, then teleported us and said residence just outside your atmosphere – Well, when I say just outside I imply numerous light-years away – and I am forthwith inquiring information about the nearest habitable planet, where I will, if I deem it safe, take us. Any questions ?"

Despite it being a rhetorical question, they did, in fact, have some questions.  
Though to be honest, none of them were quite as efficient as Adam's "What the actual fuck ?"  
Ashkorncsmi's enthusiastic exclamation less than five seconds later kept them all from reacting any further. The alien checked his beeping screen before snorting, "Right, ‘nice’. Anyway, fellow Milkians, we're going to Plov," he informed them, spitting the last word with such disdain it would've been funny if they weren't being held against their will.  
The door got opened, and any objection they had to this trip died on their lips at the sight of the beautiful if so inherently alien landscape revealing itself before them.  
Acres of a sleek silver-looking metallic floor laid beneath them, walked on only by a dozen or so remote humanoid shapes. In the distance were messily stacked spheric buildings, around which floated man-sized capsules - some moving, some not. A city.  
They walked towards it, slowly, in silence, not knowing what to do nor how to feel. They didn't want to go back, not anymore; not now. They couldn't stay here in the long-run either. They  couldn't forget that they've been abducted nor really blame - or at least be mad at - their... new acquaintance. Their best option was to just let it go for now and enjoy their unearthly trip.

'Asromonz' was, according to their improvised guide the most hateable capital in the galaxy. Boring. Lifeless.   
Nobody came here for any other reason than necessity. Nobody lived here out of choice. Nobody intended to stay.   
It wasn’t bad in any objective, practical way. It wasn’t rowdy, filthy or corrupted. It wasn’t too posh or pretentious. But its atmosphere, its ambiance it was just.. wrong. Because you couldn’t live on Plov, let alone in Asromonz. And the fact that the planet was nobody’s home; it took away all the charm. Plus, it was the Kerestes' home planet, he’d said. Not that anybody knew was he was talking about. Or agreed with anything he'd said, for that matter. 

They were on an alien planet. At this point excitement took over any other emotion they might have felt, and worries over why didn’t matter anymore because they were on an alien planet.

The group walked past a sign, under a metallic, beautiful, enormous arch, and into the city.

Setting foot in their first alien city wasn’t so disturbing, considering.  
The landscape wasn’t like anything they’d ever seen before, and some of the people's alienness was glaringly obvious, but the whole felt more like an old sci-fi show than an actual other planet. Overall, it felt almost familiar. 

"We stayed in the same galaxy," Ashkorncsmi explained when Cerise brought it up." The buildings, the people, the social norms, about everything remains... shockingly similar. Or at least if felt like it when I first left the Central Place. I'm pleased someone else perceived it."

 

 

After approximately twenty-four hours of arguing, walking around trying to ignore the humans' amazement and figure out logistics and answering Cerise's science-related questions as well as he could, Ashkorncsmi felt the anxiety slowly leaving his body, guilt taking its place. Maybe it  _had_ been an abduction (?). He hesitated, then turned to face Adam and Elliot, stopping the finally silent team's footsteps. "I’m sorry," he blurted out. That's how one was supposed to do it, right? I… abducted you. I – I panicked. And nothing can excuse what I did but – I can’t apologize enough. There was. Um – I was. I," he slowly exhaled, avoiding his companions' expecting gazes; obviously struggling with this. "I was in an illegal situation. And I was - Well, about to. An Agent was there, and so was I except I wasn't allowed to be," he quietly laughed, before clearing his throat. "So like I said: I panicked, brought you with me even though I had no right to, and, well, I apologize." 

Adam, standing up to resume his walking around and gushing excitedly about basic stuff, dowright laughed at this. "Glad you realized it wasn't a normal occurence, man. But we don't even have it in us to be mad anymore - well, I don't know about Elliot, he could still be in one of his you-can-wrong-the-world-but-not-my-sister moods," he said, smiling sweetly at Elliot flipping him off. "I mean. We're on an alien planet. You do realize that, right? I mean, yeah, you do, but whatever. Dude. Ugh. I'm going back," he added, gesturing in the general direction of what seemed to have the main characteristics of a market. 

Later on, when he returned with gluey looking, brightly coloured food that he somehow acquired without any kind of currency, Adam found Cerise and Ashkorncsmi seated on the ground, on a calm and discreet spot close to the city's gates and Elliot a bit further away, on his sister's side. After he was given the go-ahead, Ashkorn confirming that what he brought was indeed edible to all of them, he gave them each a cup, and sat down next to his best friend, joining him in watching his sister and the alien debating over the basics of teleportation's fu

"This is good," he said a while later, lifting up the black egg-like cup, his half full mouth still smiling at Cerise's antics. "But not like good good. More like 'I need to keep my muscles contracted, like my guard up for it to stay good' good. Like fragile good, you know?" 

 

And as Adam, predictably, kept rambling, elliot felt that no matter how tense, worried, and, well, frankly guilty he's been so far, it could've been worse. He'd long ago found out the hard way that it could  _always_ be worse _._ But as he listened to Adam's deep voice, and heard Cerise's getting louder in the backround as well, he thought that  _maybe,_ just maybe, he could relax - for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on social media:  
> Twitter : https://mobile.twitter.com/unapologetichw (@unapologetichw ElHavoc)  
> Tumblr : https://unapologetichavocwreaker.tumblr.com/ (@unapologetichavocwreaker)  
>    
> My posting schedule should be about a chapter a week but ADHD, lazyness and life are bitches, so that might not be totally accurate.  
> Lots of love - but not too much,  
> Lyna


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